Enigma
by fallen-angel-b
Summary: Trunks has developed an obsession with his master, Gohan. But will he ever be able to admit his feelings to him – or even to himself? More or less a ‘coming out’ story, but with a bit of fluff and angst thrown in as well. MTMGh


**Enigma**

_**By fallen-angel-b**_

**Rated:** PG-13

**Summary:** Trunks has developed an obsession with his master, Gohan. But will he ever be able to admit his feelings to him – or even to himself? More or less a 'coming out' story, but with a bit of fluff and angst thrown in as well.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing

**Pairings: ** Mirai Gohan/Mirai Trunks

* * *

Gohan was pacing again. 

Always pacing. Always restless. Night after night of nothing but retracing his steps until his feet moved of their own accord – each movement captivating…each stocky stride causing tanned muscles to flex…sweat forming on a hardened brow. A uniquely handsome face creased in deep concentration, perfectly picturesque in the flawless light of the moon.

For every night that Gohan paced, Trunks had watched him. As he lay motionless beneath the blankets with eyes fixed unblinkingly upon the older man, he took in his every movement…his sharp, yet graceful features, and the enigmatic power of his fiery dark eyes.

Not once did Trunks allow his steady gaze to falter, even to blink. Once, he thought he may have even forgotten to breathe. His body often ached and creaked with fatigue during the day – his face grew pale, his eyes bloodshot. But still he would not sleep. In dreams, a person's greatest fear can be brought before their very eyes, and they shall be powerless to stop it. Fear can be imprisoned deep within the human subconscious – sometimes ignored for years. But in the end, the darkness will rise up again to attack you when you are most vulnerable. No, Trunks did not care for sleep. Watching Gohan was the only thing keeping him sane.

Trunks had never met anyone quite as intriguing as Gohan. During the day, when they trained, they rarely spoke to one another, each accepting of the fact that the other needed to be left alone. Although sometimes, Trunks would wish that they could talk more. He wanted to know Gohan – to understand what went on behind those perplexing, passionate eyes. He wanted to be the one Gohan was closest to – to have their names forever linked together on the telltale pages of history.

But Gohan did not open himself to others easily. He seldom spoke, and if he did, it was not to convey the way he was feeling or what he was thinking. Perhaps this is what drew Trunks to him in the first place. He was attracted to all his quirks and peculiarities…to his stern kindness…to the protection and security he felt whenever he was near him. He was fascinated by him – entranced by his every movement and word. He _had _to find a way to be closer to him – he needed it.

Trunks could understand that he would hold no interest for someone like Gohan. In comparison, he was just a plain and simple boy – trivial and meek…no where near as strong, capable or experienced. He marveled that Gohan had put up with him for so long, caring for him and training him to fight the Androids for almost six months now. During that time, he hadn't made as much progress as he would have liked. Despite all of his and Gohan's best efforts, he was still far from becoming Super Saiyan. This often led him to wonder if Gohan resented his promise to take him on as his pupil…if he had long since realized that the potential he had seen in him was all farce, and was only biding his time before deciding to give up on training him for good. He expected it to happen eventually. He wouldn't blame Gohan for it. Good things _never _lasted long for him.

Perhaps, he wondered, as he lay beneath the warmth of his blankets, he wasn't meant to be happy. On the rare occasion when he was, it felt…_wrong_ somehow…like he had stepped into some kind of bizarre parallel reality. Perhaps that was why fate had led him to Gohan in the first place. It was a way of punishing him further. He could stare at Gohan all he wanted, but he could never have what he truly needed from him.

Gohan was the only other person with Saiyan blood in their veins left on the doomed planet – the only one who understood his passion…his power…his need to fight and protect the world and the people he loved from those that wanted to destroy it. Unlike his mother, Gohan taught him to harness his emotions – to use them instead of suppressing them deep within him. He taught him that it was okay to be angry – that it was his emotions that would make him stronger, and not the other way around. He had released him…brought him to life. He had taught him so much more…more than Trunks guessed he would ever realize.

Trunks wished that Gohan would at least tell him more about his past…about the battles and trails he had faced…how he had to stand alone against an enemy which had taken the lives of all those he loved. But he knew nothing of the older man's personal life – nothing except what Gohan seemed to think he 'needed' to know. He was always amazed by the way the older man could so cleverly disguise his feelings, hiding them behind a mask of serenity and calm. But Trunks knew deeper, more troubled feelings lurked beneath the surface – he always saw it, even when others did not. If only Gohan would open up and tell him more…stop making himself into this confusing, perplexing enigma…then maybe this infatuation would end.

No, Trunks was lying to himself to say that. It was more than just an infatuation – it was an obsession. Night after sleepless night, Trunks would watch Gohan quietly from his resting place, imagining what it would be like to feel that glistening bronze skin under his fingertips, and to stare, unabashed, into the depths of those soulful dark eyes.

Of course, he knew that it could never be. He was no fool, and he did not even try to pretend that such a thing was possible. Instead of filling himself with wistful hopes, he remained content just to watch…to listen…to be in Gohan's presence…never once daring to believe that anything would change.

But on this night, it did change.

Quite unexpectedly, Gohan stopped pacing, coming to rest in front of Trunks. Trunks snapped his eyes shut, hands clenched into fists, not even daring to breathe. He could not let Gohan know that he had been watching him. He was embarrassed and ashamed of how he had behaved. What would Gohan think if he knew how he felt?

An eternity seemed to pass. Trunks upheld the pretence of sleeping, wanting both for Gohan to leave and for him to stay. He wondered if Gohan could sense his inward turmoil…could hear his shaky breathing and the pounding of his heart. He tried to focus on something else – anything else – in an attempt to calm himself, but it was to no avail. He was hyperaware of Gohan's presence, and nothing in the world could tear his attentions away.

He felt, more than heard, as Gohan crouched down beside him. A hand reached out to touch his brow and sweep his hair back from his forehead. The fingers were calloused, the skin rough…palms warm and clammy. Trunks was filled with a mixture of emotion. Did he dare to hope that Gohan felt the same way he did? He couldn't…couldn't allow himself to be led astray and later let down by disappointment. Besides, Gohan knew as well as he did that it simply wasn't safe in these troubled times. But then why was he here now? Why was he caressing his face in what seemed like such a loving and tender manner?

Unable to stop himself any longer, Trunks slowly opened his eyes. He regretted it almost immediately. Gohan sharply drew his hand away, eyes downcast, and swiftly got to his feet. Trunks just stared at the thick blue training-boots that were now level to his eyes, trembling. Now he had experienced the gentle touch of Gohan's hand, all he wanted was to feel it again. He suddenly felt cold and incomplete…alone.

"I did not mean to wake you," Gohan broke the silence of the night, voice deep, cool, and controlled as always.

"Y-You didn't," Trunks stammered. He wanted to look up into Gohan's eyes, but he was afraid of what might happen if he did.

"Are you alright, Trunks?" Gohan replied, sounding slightly puzzled. "You're shivering."

"Cold," he only told half of the truth. He wished Gohan had not touched him. Now, he didn't think that he could do so much as maintain his own sanity at this moment without that contact again.

Gohan remained silent and unmoving, watching him intently. Trunks wished that he would do something – anything at all. If he didn't, Trunks was certain that he would say something he knew he probably shouldn't.

After a while, Gohan muttered something about him needed his rest and began to leave. _No! _Trunks shouted the same word over and over again in his mind. He couldn't stand to watch him go. In that moment, he had felt something…a connection between them, and he feared that if he let the older man leave now, he would risk losing something – possibly his only chance. In a matter of seconds, he made up his mind. This night would be different. This night, things would change, whether it was for better, or for worse.

"Wait, Gohan!" he cried, sitting up to look at him. The other man paused and turned to face him, startled. Trunks did not let his eyes falter, no longer afraid of either rejection or acceptance. The constant battle with the Androids left much uncertainty in the hearts of man. Tomorrow could be his last day on earth, or Gohan's. He had nothing left to lose.

"What is it?" Gohan slowly walked back towards him.

"I can't sleep." He said softly. "Will you stay with me?"

Dark eyes momentarily widened in surprise. After only a moment of hesitation, Gohan dropped to the ground, cross-legged with his hands folded in his lap, watching him intently. There was still a decently sized space between them, and Trunks wanted it to close.

"Gohan…Gohan, will you come closer?"

Gohan moved cautiously, shifting only an inch further.

"Closer, Gohan," Trunks urged him earnestly. Then, after only a brief pause, added, "I want you to hold me."

Trunks watched as Gohan visibly grew tense. It seemed as if there was a battle raging on behind his normally calm eyes…as if he were struggling between what was right and what he wanted. Slowly, he came and knelt beside the younger boy, but still seemed uncertain of his decision. Trunks held out his arms instinctively, unable to wait a second longer without touching him. An instant later, Gohan lifted him, blankets and all, so that he was reclining in his arms. Trunks wrapped his arms around Gohan's neck and rested his head against a firm chest, his eyes closed softly…savoring each second as he was carried over to the fire a small distance away.

Gohan sat down on a log beside the fire, cradling the boy in his arms. Trunks felt the kind of warmth that the blankets and the fire alone couldn't give him. He breathed in the now nearly overwhelming scent of his companion and sighed with satisfaction, the fingers of one hand clenched around Gohan's shirt. He rested his head against his chest, eyes still closed, feeling Gohan's heart beating and chest heaving against his cheek. He wondered now why he had not thought to say something sooner…had not realized how much he truly needed this until now.

Although he was mostly content in Gohan's arms, Trunks couldn't help feeling slightly uneasy. He'd never experienced contact like this before from anyone. He didn't have memories of his mother holding him since he was a baby. These days, he was always the one being protective and holding her, having to be strong for both of them. Being with Gohan was not like being with anyone else. He didn't have to be strong, or feel as if he needed to hide how he truly felt. He could be himself, fully and completely.

However, questions still plagued his mind. Did Gohan feel the same way as he did? He had asked himself this often, always secretly hoping that the answer to the question was 'yes', but never daring to believe it, as much as he sorely wanted to. Gohan had always treated him with affection – even when they trained – but he had always suspected that the feeling was brotherly, or at least he convinced himself to. But this night, there was something in his demeanor…something powerful that led him to question if this was more.

But now that he was being held so securely, he felt as if none of it really mattered at that moment. He could relax in Gohan's arms…content with the comfortable silence that surrounded them, broken only by the crackling of the fire. He wanted to remain like this forever…he wanted to be _safe _forever. He couldn't ever remember feeling this safe before. He didn't need to feel like he had to control himself any longer when he was with Gohan. Before he knew it, tears were falling freely from his eyes.

It seemed as though all the pent-up emotion he had carried with him over the past months came pouring out from him all at once. Anger and confusion…desperation…frustration…he didn't know which was strongest. The pain was almost unbearable – he hadn't even realized just how much it had effected him. Now that he finally felt secure, he didn't feel the need to stop himself, though he doubted he could if he tried. He had never cried so much or so hard before. Somehow, all his internal emotional scars seemed far more painful than any of the physical abuse he had endured.

Gohan continued to hold him, saying nothing, and waiting patiently for the crying to end. Trunks thanked the gods for leading him to the older man – for granting him his only source of comfort. He sobbed uncontrollably for hours, until finally his tears ceased, and his anguished sobs dwindled into desperate gasps and sniffs. He felt weak and disoriented – ashamed at himself for his inability to maintain self-control. However, when he searched his own conscious, he realized that he was not embarrassed that Gohan had witnessed this. Instead, he felt somewhat closer to the older man, and even more content in his presence.

"Tell me what's wrong, Trunks."

Gohan's unexpected words cut though Trunks' conscious like a stone breaking the smooth surface of a still lake. Gohan's tone was stern, serious and demanding. He was not simply asking Trunks to reveal his own troubled thoughts and disturbing memories to him – he was insisting on it. Trunks knew by now that it was impossible to change Gohan's mind once it had been made up. He supposed that parted of him wanted to tell him some of it. Perhaps it would somehow relieve him of all this emotional burden…

Although he knew little of Gohan's past, Trunks trusted the older man fully and completely. After everything that had happened with the Androids, he had thought that he would be incapable of trusting anyone again. But Gohan was different…Gohan had always been different. He was always so calm and controlled…stern, and yet kind at the same time. Trunks always had the impression that Gohan had seen and experienced much in his life. He felt confident in putting his own life in the older man's hands.

Even so, he was not ready to admit things to him that he couldn't even admit to himself. He didn't want to bring painful, tortuous memories to surface. Such things were better left hidden somewhere in the dark corners of his mind. With a heavy sigh, he hid his face in Gohan's shirt, breaking into a fresh set of silent tears.

"Trunks…" Gohan said softly and slowly, his tone filled with traces of unmasked care and concern. "…Trunks, look at me."

A large, warm hand cupped his cheek, tilting his face upwards so that he was forced to meet Gohan's eyes. Trunks could read all the sadness and concern the other man's expression clearly, and his heart leapt as he realized that Gohan really cared for him.

But perhaps this was as much a curse as it was a blessing. He did not want Gohan to question him. He didn't even want to think about what would happen if Gohan knew the truth about how he felt.

"Every day, you start to look worse and worse. I know something is wrong, and as your master, I want to help. But I can't help you unless you let me. I need you to open up to me…to trust me."

Trunks was so surprised at the fact that Gohan was speaking to him in such a way that he momentarily forgot to consider what Gohan was asking of him. He turned his gaze downwards, staring at the wet stains his tears had made on Gohan's orange shirt. Could he really tell him? What would happen if he did?

"Please, Trunks," Gohan sounded almost desperate. "let me help you."

"I…can't." he whispered hoarsely, tears falling against Gohan's rough palm. "I don't know how…how to say it."

"Yes you do. What is this about? The Androids? Your mother?"

"It's about everything! _Everything_, Gohan! The Androids…they've destroyed _everything_. They took away my father, my friends, and any chance I had at a normal life. They've taken so much from so many people. I want to make it better, somehow. I want to fight. I want this madness to end. But at the same time…I'm so afraid…I'm so afraid of dying…is that selfish? To think like that? Am I a coward? Un-Saiyan?"

"It's okay to be afraid," Gohan replied quietly. "It's natural – it's human."

"I want to be a Saiyan. I want to fight – to live up to my heritage. I don't know much about my father, but I want him to be proud of me. Wherever he is, I want him to see me fight, and to know I'm not a coward."

"Trunks, you're anything _but _a coward. You're only fifteen, yet you're one of the bravest people I know. I used to know your father – I know how proud he would be if he could see you today."

"I wish I could believe that. You see, sometimes I want to fight, and other times I just want to run away – for it all to disappear. But I love this planet so much. It's my home, and I want to protect it. I want to protect everyone. My mother…she tries so hard, and I love her so much…but at the same time, we're falling apart. There are some things she doesn't understand – Saiyan things. I wish I could tell her that I'm training with you…I wish I could make her understand how I feel, but I can't! And I have no father…no friends…no one to guide me except you. You're the only one that understands. But now…now it's so complicated. It can't be the way it used to be."

"Why not?" Gohan said imploringly, clearly puzzled. "Why is it complicated?"

"It's complicated because I love you. I love you, Gohan, but I'm so afraid of it. Not just because I'm scared of losing you…I'm afraid of myself. These feelings that I get. Boys don't love boys! It's not…_norma_l. So how come I feel this way? How come I can't stop staring at you…thinking about you? Is there something wrong with me?"

Gohan's eyes widened in shock, his hold loosening on the other boy as he gazed, open-mouthed, at him. Trunks felt as if his entire body had gone numb with fear. He knew! Now Gohan knew! What might Gohan assume about him now? Why had he blurted out so much? What was going to happen?

Trunks turned away, eyes closed, as he took in a long, shuddering breath. He just wanted to hide…to forget that this ever happened…to wake and discover he had dreamed it. He felt so humiliated and ashamed of himself. The only thing consoling him now was the fact that Gohan was still holding in a firm embrace, reassuring him that he was still cared for. Gohan couldn't hate him, but had he misinterpreted all the signs? Did Gohan only see him as a little brother? No…he couldn't take that…couldn't stand rejection….not now…

He heard Gohan sigh heavily and felt him move. Trunks snapped his eyes up to Gohan's, looking at him fearfully. He wouldn't be able to take it if Gohan left him now. But all the older man did was adjust himself on the log so that he was sitting more comfortably, Trunks still in his lap. There was an unusual mixture of emotion in his eyes: confusion…hopefulness…joy?

"Trunks," Gohan whispered finally. "is that true?"

"Yes." He murmured, eyes downcast. There was no sense in denying it. Trunks wished that he could stop the tears from falling…the pain from resurfacing. He felt as though it was choking him – tearing and shredding at his insides. Gohan was going to leave him, never to train him, see him, or speak to him ever again.

"Oh God, Trunks…I'm so sorry. I'm sorry that this had to happen to you. I'm sorry you couldn't tell me sooner. But there's no need to worry so much. _Nothing _is wrong with you. It's okay for boys to like other boys. It's very normal. Didn't your mother ever tell you that?"

"Mum hates talking about these things with me. She hardly ever does. But I know boys are supposed to like girls."

"Not always." Gohan said with a slight smile, "I, for one, have no real interest in girls."

Trunks looked up at him again, bemused, "Really?"

"Mm-hmm." Gohan nodded solemnly. "It's called being gay, and there's nothing wrong with it – nothing at all. The word gay itself actually means 'happy'."

"So it's okay…that I love you?" he said shyly, feeling himself blush.

Gohan lifted a trembling hand to Trunks' face, gently brushing away a tear from the corner of one eye. "As far as I'm concerned, it's more than okay."

Trunks felt himself shiver at the touch, and without really thinking about it, lifted his own hand to cover the other man's, gently closing his eyes. Although outside, he felt calm, his heart was thudding faster and faster in his chest. Gohan said it was okay to love him…_more _thank okay.

"You know, if you ever want to talk, then…"

"No, I don't need to talk," Trunks said slowly, eyes still shut. "I just…"

"Just what?" Gohan whispered.

The eyes sprung open, this time meeting with his master's directly. "I just need you to hold me."

The arm around his body tightened instantly. "I'll hold you forever, Trunks, if that is want you want."

Trunks didn't think he could have torn his eyes away from Gohan even if he had wanted to try. How could such a thing be real? How could anyone feel so strongly about him, and how could he feel the same way in return? Good things never happened to him. He had always accepted that as a fact. He wasn't sure if he should even dare to believe it. But by the gods – nothing else had ever felt so real…so _right_. This couldn't just be some elaborate dream or a figment of his imagination. It was really happening…

Gohan drew closer to him, and he did not resist as warm, soft lips were pressed against his own. Trunks had never felt anything so powerful…so passionate and perfect. He was completely lost in the sensation of lips upon lips…skin against skin. For a while, he even forgot who or where he was. He was aware of Gohan's hands gliding up and down his back, reminding him that he was completely and utterly safe. Gohan's lips were like fire – his kiss burning. It made him wonder if it was possible to die from so much happiness and pleasure.

When they finally broke apart, Trunks was dazed and disoriented. Gohan held him tightly, bringing him warmth and comfort. He was asleep long before the fire had burnt out, and dawn began to break out across the horizon.

* * *

**A/N:** This was originally intended to be a oneshot, but I may continue it if inspiration should strike me. I had a lot of fun writing this, for some unknown reason. I don't know why, but something about this random, if pointless, fic appealed to me (which is strange, seeing as it does not contain gay sex). Anyway, hope you liked it.

Thanks for reading, please review!


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